


Silent Explosives

by tangledinfairylights



Category: Hermitcraft RPF
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:21:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28313733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tangledinfairylights/pseuds/tangledinfairylights
Summary: Tango Tek, a friend, a teammate, a co-owner, a gamemaster, a gift-giver. The ever-so-extraverted member of Hermitcraft that couldn’t seem to bear one moment without his friends.Surely they plan on staying all the same.
Relationships: Tango Tek & Everyone Platonically
Comments: 2
Kudos: 32





	Silent Explosives

There’s one thing about Tango — and it’s how he’s so... one-of-a-kind. Irreplaceable. Unforgettable. He never claimed that he  had  these traits, come on, how narcissistic would that be? — but he knew that everyone felt that way about him. 

Some said it directly to his face. Others made off-hand comments, not exactly about Tango’s personality but the things associated with him — his style, his niche vocabulary, even the fireworks he set off as he flew around (thanks, Etho). 

Tango had a branding, and he knew it. Rocket guy. Iron Titan. Creating new nouns with the suffix — _ification_. Red, the colour of fire — also the colour of his sleeves and trousers and irises and the redstone residue on his fingers that never seemed to go away. How many other Hermits could claim that they’ve been doing the same thing for multiple seasons, and still hasn’t lost its relevancy? 

But as much as these little things applied to his branding, his personality also helped the matter — if not more. A good look at all twenty-four residents of Hermitcraft would tell you that one man’s the most sociable of them all. Tango. Everyone knew him, from Xisuma to TFC — heck, forget  _ knew _ . Everyone in this world was his  _ friend _ .

And, boy, he  loved  that. Loved going around spreading warmth to everyone, altered to each of his friends’ personalities — for Etho, a punch in the shoulder was a form of affection, while for Keralis, a hug was the way to go. Tango loved how well he knew the Hermits, knew that Xisuma secretly cannot handle tea that had less than two spoonfuls of sugar, knew that Grian and Ren had an obsession with Mars bars, knew that Iskall and Stress did one hundred push-ups every night for fun, knew that False’s hair always got in her way but she had vowed to herself to never cut it. These little details about his friends made life a lot more interesting than it actually was.

Every morning started the same, but it’s never dull. Wake up at four AM sharp, prepare a black coffee and fly in to TFC’s mine to give the beverage — the guy’s always awake at three every single day, Tango didn’t know how either. Then fly back — maybe tinker with Zed’s right side/wrong side bedroom if he’s feeling mischievous, before starting on his actual projects. 

But most importantly: liven up his base. Turn on the anvils, and the slimes and the creepers and the fire cannons False surely loved so much — and he’s good to go. Usually, Zed would come around to help, and they would switch it up after a few hours — Tango found Zed’s base to be one of the most interesting places on the server, with all its Zedaphy differences.

The afternoons were just as fun and social as his mornings. Drop in at Impulse’s, complain about the water (that did not make him wet one bit due to the conduits around, but Tango just liked complaining), slide in some concrete profits and have lunch — it’s always cod, except for special holidays. Cod’s always the staple at Impulse’s. Baked, grilled, fried (a hazard, Tango learned the hard way — who knew oils get hot when they’re heated up?), it’s always the same, but never monotonous.

Then they would talk and talk about what’s been going on and what plans were they having and what new things had each other been working on — everything. Always something to talk about. Always a good laugh.

But once that’s done with, came Tango’s favourite part of the day — for the sole reason that it’s always unpredictable.

What else was left for the day? Tango knew as much as the next person. It could be Etho being amazing at note blocks — _god, that guy’s so talented_ — and he would marvel over the musician’s creation while trying so hard to not use proper words of affection — they’re that pair of friends that tease each other so much, actual adoration felt weird. But it’s always a good laugh and a great time with Etho around.

Or he could ship some coal ores to Bdubs’s magnificent palace and stand there in awe at everything — Tango would kneel before Bdubs on his diorite throne without question if that meant he could get a  _ smidge  _ of his building skills, really. What a guy. Everything about Bdubs — his hug, his loud, confident, lisping voice, his bright smile, how he jumped around to make up for his shorter legs — it was pure  _ energy  _ and that’s the one thing Tango himself was familiar with.

Or if Tango’s not too busy with personal projects, (which was rare, but hey — it happened sometimes), he could check out the other Hermits’ places as well. Targét’s always a fun place — he’s rather surprised that Cub still lets him in after him and Impulse broke his honey roller coaster, but it’s always a good fun, and Cub’s a great guy. His ambition and determination was always what Tango dreamed to be. See, Tango’s a hardworker, no doubt about that — but Cub’s on another  _level_.  He’s strategic, and goal-oriented, and disciplined, and Tango could only hope that spending time with Cub could rub some of his self-control on him.

Another amusement place at Hermitcraft was Cleo’s zoo. Oh, how Tango loved the zoo. It always amused him when Cleo gave him a death glare as he raised his hand up to tap on the “don’t tap on the glass” sign, and the ice-cream parlour served his favourite, berry and dark chocolate, and he always found himself leaving with the biggest grin, a pink moustache of ice-cream, a couple scratches from the petting section, and a red balloon. Because everyone needed to liven up the child inside them every once in a while.

Tango always made sure to pass through False’s base as he flew home, with the sun setting before him. No reason at all. He’d always adored False — loved how they had the exact sense of humour and how he had her goggles etched over his creeper farm, and they never interacted much, but when they do, it’s always like nothing had changed since they last met. The same inside jokes and the same references and everything in-between.

There’s really nothing else Tango could wish for in this world. He’s a friend to all, and everyone found a friend in him, and everything went so well. 

And it’s only going to get better. The season would kept going, and new people would keep appearing — and he’s content with that.

He’s young and social and ambitious. He’s going to continue to create until nothing was left to create, be it builds or games or friendships, and Tango’s going to leave a mark on everyone’s lives.

You’ll see.


End file.
